There’s an art to looking into the middle distance that all girls seem to understand how to express. Are they born with this ability? Or is it learned, like applying lipstick? My mom’s lipstick bullets were always molded oddly from her application strategy, leaving a leaning tower in their wake, her lipstick after the swipe of her lips as unstable as me after her words left from between them. Shhhh, haaaaaaaaa — a deep breath running its course while minds were elsewhere and eyes caught something dancing in the middle of a thought, projected somewhere between the sky and the clouds. Shhhh, haaaa, shhhh, hahaha — give me a light laugh after I’m done looking into nowhere and I’ll pretend it never happened and you’ll pretend my thoughts were on you, always.